Illusion
by TheeMizKitty
Summary: Draco Malfoy is stalking Harry Potter. Or is that all it really is? DM/HP


_Illusion_

_By: Thee Miz Kitty_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and related characters. _

_a/n: Alright this is the longest one-shot I have ever done and, possibly, ever will do. It was a fun story to write, don't get me wrong, but with school getting hectic I might not have time to write something as long as this again. But I love this story though! It was sort of inspired by Fight Club, sort of. Eh, well I used the song from Fight Club at least! I hope you like this story, it made my fingers sore from typing! I also meant to edit this story but I really don't have the time left, so please forgive all grammar and spelling errors. _

_Warning: Boy-Boy sex, boy-boy pairing. Yaoi, if you want to really get down to it. _

_Pairings: DM/ HP; HG/RW_

* * *

_With your feet in the air and your head on the ground  
Try this trick and spin it, yeah  
Your head will collapse  
If there's nothing in it  
And you'll ask yourself_?

Where is my mind

_-Where is My Mind? By Pixies_

He was EVERYWHERE. And it was all at once.

Harry Potter didn't even know when it had began, only that it was happening every single day, during nearly every single hour. He was always there, standing there, smirking at him, mocking him, the same Slytherin from his nightmares—Draco Malfoy.

He was everywhere and Harry was slowly losing his mind from it, from him.

It had even gotten so bad that at night Malfoy would appear out of thin air perched on his bed, staring down at him with that classic smirk and no matter how much Harry yelled at him, he would not leave, not at all. In fact, he sometimes didn't even talk at all as he stalked Harry and whenever Harry even tried to ignore him, he couldn't.

He was always there.

-0-

A week into the stalking, Harry decided that he could no longer handle Malfoy on his own and went to the most intelligent, helpful person he knew—naturally, one Hermione Granger, now a Weasley.

She had listened to Harry's problem with a bemused sort of look on her face, her eyebrows scrunched together in an expression typical of her brain working a mile a minute. Harry could only take it as a good sign.

"You say that he started to follow you about a week ago?" she asked when he was finished lamenting and he nodded miserably. "At the coffee shop."

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Ron and I met you there, didn't we? I'm surprised we didn't see him… Did he meet you outside?"

"Yeah, I think so. He came out of an alley wearing that atrocious little smirk and I threatened to hex him."

"Harry you didn't!" Hermione gasped, "It's been two years since Hogwarts, and yet you still intend to view Malfoy as your enemy?"

Harry stared at her as though she were really brain dead. "Well, yes Hermione. I mean, people don't change a hell of a lot in just two years!"

Hermione frowned in disapproval at his admission and Harry hastened to get her back on subject. "So he was acting suspicious anyway, and when I threatened to hex him he said something about me being a typical Gryffindor and then he…vanished."

"Vanished?" Hermione prompted primly, "As in Disapparated?"

"Er, I guess so. I don't think there's any other way for someone to just vanish Hermione."

She shot him a withering glare. "Unless there was a port key involved, of course. Was there anything in his hand?"

"No," Harry shook his head, thinking back rapidly, "He didn't even have his wand out. He just stood there…still stands there…staring at me."

"Interesting…" Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, "Does he ever talk to you Harry?"

"Talk to me?" Harry scowled darkly, "Unless you call insulting talking then yeah, he does. But he only does when I call him out on something, which is usually following me. I mean, he's in my house Hermione!"

The witch, sensing her friend's agitation, reached out to softly pat him on his arm, even as her mind was still whirling. "That is not normal at all Harry…Have you called the Ministry? Maybe they should deal with this."

"Hermione!" Harry whined, "you know I hate the Ministry—I'd rather suffer with Malfoy then have to deal with them!"

"But Harry," the concerned witch tried to assert, "If Malfoy is able to break through the wards surrounding your house then he's obviously using complex—maybe even dark—magic! You can't just pass that off as nothing!"

Harry was far too used to Hermione's sometimes bothersome concern by now, and had perfected the ability to brush it off. "Hermione come on, what is the worst _Malfoy_ can do to me? I beat Voldemort for Merlin's sake; I'm sure I can handle it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that he was playing the rare hero card and wanting to say a thing or two about it.

"Harry James—"

If she ever got the chance, that is.

"Hermione it's getting late," Harry hurriedly said as he stood, pretending not to see her outraged expression as he crossed over to the Weasley fireplace. "Tell Ron I said hi, yeah? I'll get back to you soon."

Grabbing a handful of floo powder he looked back at her angered expression one last time with a reassuring smile on his face. "And don't worry too much, alright? I'll be fine!"

And in a flare of green fire he was gone.

-0-

But Harry found, over the next couple of days, that he was not fine, not at all.

It was as though his visit with Hermione had only made things worse. Harry found himself no longer seeing Malfoy at just his home and on the streets but in his office at the Ministry now as well.

When Malfoy first walked into Harry's office chewing casually on an apple, Harry was so flabbergasted that he dropped his quill and spilt the ink all over the report he had been writing. The Auror found himself nothing short of horrified.

"Malfoy! What the hell are you doing here!? How did you even get here?" He stood up with his wand out, aimed at the nonchalant blonde's chest. Malfoy just took a particularly large bite of his apple and chewed slowly, his frosty eyes regarding Harry almost wickedly through pale lashes.

"Honestly Harry, can't I come see you every once in awhile?"

Harry was so petrified that he lowered his wand, his defense, and openly gaped at the Malfoy. Draco had just rolled his eyes at Harry's expression and continued eating, just like that. As though what he had said meant nothing…

That was the first time that Malfoy ever called Harry by his first name.

"Tell me what you want Malfoy!" Harry hissed, regaining himself and pointing his wand at Malfoy again. "How did you find me? You're not allowed to Apparate into the Ministry!"

Malfoy leveled him with a sarcastic look. "No Potter, actually I just walked through the front door. I know very well no one can Apparate here!"

"Well then how did you get here?" Harry growled, slowly edging around his desk over to the doorway where Malfoy casually leaned against the frame. "Tell me now before I hex you."

And then Malfoy did the most peculiar thing; in the face of Harry's wrath, in the face of his threats, the Malfoy heir threw his head back and actually _laughed. _Boisterous and surprisingly light, his laughter filled up Harry's ears and bounced off his office walls, mocking him, _so lovely—_

If Harry had not detested Malfoy as much as he did, he would have thought that the man had a nice laugh.

"You son of a bitch!" he snarled, fed up as he held his wand tighter, preparing to cast a curse that would wipe that smirk right off the git's face. "_Stupefy—"_

"Think before you act Potter!" Malfoy's voice overrode his for a moment, blending strangely with the whoosh of the curse as it left his wand and spiraled towards it target to meet—

Nothing. The curse collided in a burst of red upon Harry's office door just as Kingsley was about to enter, causing the Minister to shout out and jump quickly to the side, his hands covering his head.

When the light from the cursed died away it revealed a wide eyed Harry Potter standing with his wand drawn in the center of his office. In his hand was a half eaten red apple.

-0-

"The bastard must have had a Portkey!" Harry hissed for what felt like the thousandth time that day to Hermione and Ron, who at that point were starting to just tune him out and focus on the food on their plates. "He must have!"

Hermione was debating on whether or not she should dare try to reason with her friend _again_. "But Harry," she sighed, scooping up more food on her fork. "The Ministry would have known that a Portkey had been activated and caught Malfoy. And when you explained your idea to Kingsley what did he say? Come on Harry; admit again what he said."

Glaring at the frizzy haired witch Harry began to mutter things under his breath. "What was that Harry?" Hermione barely repressed her smirk. "Do tell us _again_."

"For about the 45th time," Ron muttered through a mouthful of food. Harry turned his glare on him. "I said that using a Portkey would have been impossible…But come on Hermione, how else would Malfoy have just disappeared like that?"

"Like I mentioned before Harry, he might be using Dark Magic!" Hermione said, "Although Malfoy doesn't have any access to dark magic at the time he might remember things—Ronald, will you stop eating your food like that?"

Ron, who was in the process of stuffing mashed potatoes in his mouth, shot his wife an offended look and just kept on eating, much to Hermione's chagrin. "Ronald—"

"I think I'm going to go to Malfoy Manor and see _him_ for once," Harry stated, drawing Hermione's attention back to him. She gave him a look of clear disapproval. "But Harry that's inane—"

"How is it inane Mione? Malfoy's been stalking me, and I think it's about time I stalked him back!"

"Cheers to that mate!" Ron exclaimed after he had finished his potatoes, "Go bother that slimy git enough for him to want to throw himself in Azkaban, where his lot belongs!"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "Malfoy was cleared of all charges—"

"But that doesn't mean he's innocent, does it?" Ron countered, "And after all the shite he's put Harry through I don't think he deserves anything else than to be punished!"

"He's just an old school rival—"

"Mione, he's more than that now; he's stalking me!" Harry exclaimed, and behind his glasses his emerald eyes grew hard and narrowed. "And I'm going to find out why. If the Ministry can't help me, well, I can always help myself, can't I?"

"But Harry! What if—"

"I'll see you guys." Harry did not wait to hear whatever logical nonsense Hermione would try to throw at him as he stood from the table.

He was halfway across the Burrow when he heard Hermione stand from the table and attempt to hurry after him. By the time she got to him he already had floo powder in his hand and was stepping into the fireplace.

"Harry please listen—"

"No Hermione, I need to do this!" he firmly stated, "And I need to do this now. I can not bear to see him anymore!"

"Harry!"

Throwing the floo powder down his voice rang throughout the Burrow, perfectly clear.

"Malfoy Manor!"

And then he was gone.

Hermione sank onto the couch and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. Ron came into the room and sat down next to his wife, pulling her up against his chest in comfort.

"He'll be alright Mione," the red head reassured, "I mean, it's just Malfoy! Harry can always handle him!"

Hermione sighed into her husband's shirt sadly. "Oh Ron…If only you knew it's so much more than that…"

She just could not tell how much more it really was.

-0-

Malfoy Manor seemed different then it was before. Of course, before Harry and his friends had been captured and bound and surrounded by Death Eaters. Not to mention Harry's face had been grotesquely swelled up.

But either way the Manor now, in the daylight that streamed in through the windows in the parlor that Harry had arrived in, everything gleamed with wealth, like polished silver and gold. It took Harry's breath away for a moment; more than ever now Harry got a glimpse of the Malfoy wealth, diminished but not destroyed by the war.

Standing up straighter Harry stopped his appreciation of the room to swiftly go to the door, intent on searching every room for Malfoy. Harry knew that he had to be here; other than to stalk him, Harry knew that Malfoy, still a leper in the Wizarding World, never really left the Manor at all anymore, even though both his parents were dead.

Some newspapers said that Malfoy was still in mourning over the death of his family, but Harry knew better; Malfoy probably could not have waited to get rid of his parents to have all the wealth to himself, the prat.

A person like Malfoy could not mourn. They just…weren't capable.

The entrance hall was empty, so were all the rooms on the bottom floor. Harry held his wand aloft as he went through each room, paying careful attention to everything as went along. If Malfoy even thought of trying to hide, Harry would find him.

Up the ornate stairs Harry found a variety of bedrooms, including the empty room of the late Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. He did not check that room; just closed the door again and shut it quietly.

It was in the room next to the deceased Malfoys' that Harry found his prey.

Draco Malfoy had been enjoying a nice nap when he was rudely awakened by the feel of a sharp wand prodding into his side. Frowning, the blonde man rolled over and opened his eyes, fully intending to put a stop to all tomfoolery…

Until he met the flaming green eyes of one angry, smug Harry Potter, who was currently holding a wand to his side. Startled, Draco had to blink a few times, convinced that the image would vanish. After five blinks and Potter remained, Draco knew he was in trouble.

"P-Potter?" he questioned slowly, hating himself for stuttering. "What are you doing in my house?!"

_And more importantly, why are you standing next to my bed?_

Potter gave him an awful sneer. "Doesn't feel good, does it? To wake up to find someone you hate hovering over you."

Draco stared at Potter dubiously for a long moment, half convinced that this was all a very strange dream. "Uh Potter? Are you drunk? Or have you hit your head or something? Because you're talking nonsense. And _why are you in my house_?"

Potter actually had the very nerve to scowl at him. "Oh come on Malfoy quit acting stupid! It's very unflattering, you know."

_Unflattering?! _Draco narrowed his eyes and sat up completely in his bed, not even noticing Potter's wand digging into his ribcage anymore. Raising his chin up he met Potter's eyes in a fierce glare.

"I am not an idiot Potter, nor am I as unflattering as one such as yourself! Now what the bloody hell are you doing in my house before I start hexing your balls off?"

It was an empty threat; Draco's wand was still lying on his nightstand, and even with that the Malfoy was unable to perform anything other than basic spells to get by thanks to the Ministry's meddling. Draco was defenseless and Potter, the arse, knew it.

"Really Malfoy?" Potter drawled, pressing his wand deeper into Draco's pale skin and reminding the blonde that not only was he defenseless in front of Potter, but shirtless as well. It only fueled his embarrassment and consequently, his rage.

"Yes really, Potter! We have not seen each other in two years—"

"Don't lie to me Malfoy!" Potter furiously cut him off, "How the fuck can you just sit there and lie to me?!"

Draco found his rage cooling again under his shock. "Potter, I have no idea what your blathering on about but—"

"You've been following me, you asshole! You've been stalking me like the right big prat you are!" Potter snarled, his face actually turning slightly pink in his anger as his green eyes flashed at Draco. _Oh my…_

Although anger made Potter look very tempting, his words captured Draco's attention more. What the hell was Potter _on_? "Stalking you?" he repeated faintly, "I would do no such plebeian thing! You _wish _I was stalking you Potter!"

As usual, Draco's mouth and need to say things just had to get him in trouble. Potter's face was a mask of frustration and fury as he moved in closer until he was practically next to Draco on the blonde's bed, making Draco, who was starting to think of himself as a potential rape victim, squirm uncomfortably and try to get away.

But of course Potter had to stop him with a large hand clamping down on his shoulder. "You're going to bruise me!" Draco unintentionally hissed out as Potter's grip tightened to painful levels. The ex-Gryffindor seemed not to hear him as he leaned in closer to the ex-Slytherin, certainly invading Draco's personal space bubble to glare at him head on, directly.

Potter had such green eyes…even when narrowed threateningly.

"You are not to stalk me anymore," Potter ground out, "because if you do, I really will send you to Azkaban, even if you don't do anything to me! Is that clear Malfoy?"

Draco wanted to agree, but he found himself preoccupied with how close Potter was to him. His face was only inches from his own…Did Potter realize that? Looking into the dark haired man's serious, angry face, Draco highly doubted it.

"Is that clear Malfoy, or should I just send you to Azkaban now?" Potter demanded again, the hand on Draco's shoulder clenching down until Draco winced, knowing that he definitely would have a bruise there now. But it might be worth it to have Potter this close to him…

"Yes," Draco delicately whispered, because what else could he say? He had never stalked Harry Potter, or seen him before this interesting little get together. Plus Potter just had to threaten him, didn't he? Sure, Draco had been evil back in the day and knew he deserved the threats then, but now they just seemed ridiculous! He was good now to everyone, it seemed, but Harry Potter; to Potter and his absurd accusations Draco was still a slimy prat that deserved to be punished.

And for some reason that hurt Draco, more than any other disapproval had; it hurt him a lot.

Not that he'd let Potter see that. He tried his best not to react as Potter's hand slid from his shoulder, finger by finger falling across and grazing the skin more than necessary. Really, who removed their hand so…sensually from someone else's shoulder? It sent shivers down Draco's spin.

Potter's eyes were all but green fire as they studied Draco for a long moment, and Draco tried to look anywhere but at Potter and Potter's mouth. Good grief had Potter always been so intense? Draco admitted that he had had a slight crush on Potter at Hogwarts, but he thought that it had fizzled out; but to see Potter now, in his room, inches away from him on his bed… Instant hard-on even if Potter just happened to be threatening him and pointing a wand at him and _Merlin Potter would not look away!_

After felt like ages of scrutinizing by Potter and awkward shifts and hard ons by Draco Potter finally decided to move away, putting space between them. Draco instantly felt cold and hated himself, and Potter even more, for it. One good thing though was that Draco no longer had a wand digging into his side.

"Well," Draco grumped at length when Potter still refused to speak or leave for that matter. "Is there anything else you want to yell at me about before you get on your merry little way?"

Potter hardened his gaze on Draco as he scowled darkly again. "I'm just trying to figure it out," Potter stated, crossing his arms.

Draco gave Potter a suspicious look. "Figure what out? Look Potter, I'm really done with your insane rambling for today so if you don't mind—"

"How did you get in and out of the Ministry?"

"—if you don't mind interrupting me! Fuck Potter, that was like the 6th time! And what? What about the Ministry? Oh Merlin you're rambling nonsense again!" Draco bemoaned, resisting the urge to fall dramatically back on the pillows behind him.

"It's not nonsense or rambling and stop lying Malfoy!" Potter yelled, "Merlin all I want is a straight answer—"

"Funny Potter, I want the same thing!" Draco snapped, "I have no idea what you're talking about and now I'm really considering getting you checked in at St Mungo's! And you say _I'm_ lying? You're insane!"

Potter clenched his jaw tightly, and those green eyes flashed. "Fine Malfoy, if you don't want to confess I'll have to do this the hard way. If you dare come around me at all again, it will be a dose of truth potion for you!"

Draco blinked at him. "You're an Auror now, right? Isn't that illegal?"

"…I'll make a special exception for you Malfoy!" Potter snarled, and before Draco could say any more Potter was crossing the room in impressively large strides.

"Hey Potter, wait!" Draco untangled himself from the sheets and ran out into the hall only to find it empty. Down below he heard the distinct sound of Floo Powder falling through the fireplace grates.

Harry Potter was already gone.

-0-

Harry was in a very good mood as he entered his flat that evening. Overall all had gone well—he had finished many reports, he had seen Ginny and heavy flirting had ensued and, best of all, he had threatened Malfoy.

Harry snickered to himself as he remembered Malfoy's astonished expression upon first seeing him. That had been worth it right there. It could not have been a better time to attack; Malfoy had been vulnerable, asleep, and, best of all _shirtless_. Not that Harry noticed. Although Malfoy did have soft skin…

But the prat really needed to die. Well, not die, just suffer. Harry was pretty convinced that Malfoy would leave him alone from now on if his response, those gentle shivers through that pale body, had been any indication.

But Harry had to hand it to Malfoy; the Slytherin really was a good actor. He acted perfectly clueless to all that Harry had thrown at him; hell, the man had even started to act _innocent._

Harry laughed to himself as he turned on the television and resigned himself to a night of reruns. He had all but forgotten about Malfoy when Hermione decided to pop up at his front door, her face angry and her body lines distraught.

Although Harry really didn't want to deal with getting yelled at, he regrettably and, to the best of his ability, generously invited her inside. He even took her coat off her. However, Hermione's anger was something no gentlemanly gesture could alleviate. She said nothing as she went over to his television and turned it off, and he forced himself to swallow his retort as she looked back at him with serious brown eyes.

"You saw him, didn't you?" Hermione had always been straight to the point, and Harry had always hated it. He looked away from her judging eyes as he nodded once, and listened to her weary sigh as she sank down on his couch.

"Harry, I told you not too!" she scolded him.

"And why shouldn't I have seen him Mione?" Harry countered, looking back at her with slight anger. "He's been stalking me! I had every right!"

"No, you really didn't Harry!" Hermione, predictably, argued back. "You're no better than him now, barging into his house! What did you even say to him?"

"I just threatened to hex him if he ever came around me again, nothing big! Hermione, I can't believe that you're actually defending Malfoy on this!"

"I'm not defending him! I just feel that you were too hasty in your…accusations." She was careful with her wording, and Harry caught it.

He narrowed his eyes at her until she had to look away, her brown eyes looking everywhere but at him.

"What do you mean by that exactly, Hermione?"

She sighed heavily, looking down at her hands as she started to wring them in her lap. "I just feel that…there might be more to this than meets the eye, Harry. I know it might look like Malfoy's stalking you—"

"Because he is!" Harry exclaimed, "Are you saying that you don't believe me?"

The awkward silence that followed was enough of an answer for him. Forgetting all thoughts of trying to be nice to Hermione in his own anger, he looked at her coldly. "I see," he stated at length, turning away from her. "You don't believe me."

"It's not that I don't believe you Harry," Hermione whispered gently as she stepped forward and grabbed his sleeve. He told himself repeatedly not to throw her hand off. "It' just that…the facts don't match up. There was no way that Malfoy could have gotten into the Ministry Harry, and no one's seen him but you…"

"Because he only wants to be seen by me! He's trying to make you think I'm crazy and apparently, Hermione, it's working!" Harry yelled.

"I'm not calling you crazy Harry!" Hermione gasped, horrified. "How could you even think that I wouldn't believe you?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he scowled at her. "Gee, I don't know, it could be because you're _siding with Malfoy_!"

"No I'm not, you arse!" Hermione was getting fed up fast. "Will you just listen to me for once without just assuming things? Merlin, men are so agitating!"

Harry glared at her for a long moment, looking into her hard, unwavering face before sighing heavily and uncrossing his arms. "Well then what do you mean by me being mistaken Hermione?" Harry asked tiredly, "I'm certainly not blind; I know it's the blonde git."

"In appearance yes, you do," Hermione replied, "But that's just appearance. I'm starting to think that maybe either…someone's using Polyjuice to become like him or, he's not really there at all."

Harry blinked at her, mystified. "You mean…like Malfoy's using a spell…?"

"It would be hard to do at long distance of course," Hermione explained primly, "And it is advanced magic that can even border on being dark but…yes, Malfoy can project his image, so to speak, to make it look like it's really him when he's around you. And since it is all an illusion it would explain how he managed to get into the Ministry, although I'm still baffled they could not detect that. He must have used a powerful amount of magic..."

"So…What does that mean for me, then?" Harry asked her, rather dubiously. "I mean, if the Malfoy I'm seeing is not real, then how do I catch him? If he ever even tries it again, that is."

Hermione pursed her lips. "What exactly did he say to you?"

"He pretty much just denied everything, like the little liar he's always been. It's been two years and I know already that nothing has changed about him."

"That might be so, but I'm curious as to why he would go through such lengths to bother you. It's…suspicious and worrisome, to say the least."

"I think he just wants to get a rise out of me," Harry dismissed, "it's what he gets off on, just as he did at Hogwarts. Maybe I should just kill him."

"Harry, don't say things like that!" Hermione scolded, although a slight smile was starting to curl at her lip. "I don't want you ending up in Azkaban instead of him!"

"As if they can throw the 'Savior of the Wizarding World' in Azkaban Mione," Harry grinned. "For once I might actually like my fame…"

"It still doesn't give you an excuse to do anything foolish Harry," Hermione shook her head, smiling lightly, "Even if Malfoy does clearly deserve it."

"Which all of course leads me to ask you, my smart friend: how do I catch Malfoy? If how I see him is not real then how…?"

"I've been thinking about that," Hermione confessed, leaning forward, "And it is impossible to cast a spell, especially a strong illusion spell, if he is not nearby whilst the image appears to you. Not even dark magic can allow for that."

"So you're saying that Malfoy really has been stalking me for real after all," Harry's eyes darkened. "And I'll get him for it."

"Well," Hermione sighed, eyeing her dark-haired friend carefully. "Just be careful while doing it. Chances are that Malfoy's not really behind it—"

Harry shot her a look, the indignation from before rushing back. "I know he's behind it Mione; I mean, who else would make me see _Malfoy_? Who else but him knows to torture me like that?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked away so that he could not see her eyes. But lately, Harry was seeing a lot of things differently, and Hermione was starting to realize it.

"Just promise me that until you actually have evidence that it is Draco Malfoy, you won't bother him."

Harry spluttered. "But Hermione I know—"

Her gaze was almost pleading, full of some light that he could not understand. Under that gaze, he faltered. "Please Harry just…don't. I'm sure Malfoy won't bother you again; he certainly knows how serious you are about this now!"

"Yeah but…what am I to do if he does?"

Hermione stood from the couch, her hands falling to her sides. "Just talk to him, Harry. Talk to his illusion. I'm sure that he'll have a lot to say…"

She said no more as, with one final quick, tight lipped smile, she maneuvered around him. He was thinking about stopping her, but just as he was about to open his mouth she was out the door and gone.

Feeling suddenly exhausted Harry could only sink on to his couch again and continue to try to watch the reruns. They played out before him with the laughs lost, and for a moment he wondered why.

He never pressed the un-mute button.

-0-

One day turned into two, two days turned into three, three turned into four. It was not long before Harry found that an entire week had gone by, and throughout the week he had not seen any trace of his recent stalker.

His spirits were considerably raised by this at the end of the week, as Friday he left the Ministry discussing Quidditch tactics with Ron. Indeed, Harry felt like it was finally back to good, normal times again as he led Ron over to the fireplace that would floo the redhead to the Burrow, a smile settled on his face that he felt that nothing could take away.

"Tell Mione that I said hi, alright?" he cheerfully waved Ron off, "oh, and if you happen to visit your family at the Other Burrow anytime soon let me know; I really want to see them!"

"I will mate, I will," Ron smiled back, waving a hand lazily at him as he grabbed up some Floo Powder. "Just don't bring your recently absent stalker with you! Can you imagine, a Malfoy in the Weasley house…" Ron trailed off, shivering violently. "Blimey, that'll be the day!"

"Good thing it'll never happen!" Harry all but beamed, "He finally seems to be gone! Threatening the prat always did seem to work, even at Hogwarts."

"That's because the Malfoys have no backbones," Ron snorted, stepping into the marble fireplace. "Really, I'm still surprised that he went so far to annoy you; normally as soon as he realizes how pissed your getting he backs down… Well either way, Mate, I'll see you tomorrow when you come to dinner; make sure to bring some wine this time, since Hermione insists that I shouldn't have any."

"No problem Ron," Harry grinned, "I'll bring the largest bottle of wine I can find, alright?"

"Wicked, thanks!" Ron beamed before, with a shout of the Burrow, he was replaced with green smoke. Harry was still smiling as he stepped into the now empty fireplace Ron had flooed out from, and still smiling as he shouted his address and found himself inside of his living room.

Shrugging off his robes he entered his bedroom and began to strip down. It was just when he was about to pull his shirt over his head that he saw it—movement from the corner of his eye. A trained Auror, Harry had his wand in his hand and had turned in less than two seconds to face the intruder. It only made sense to him, with a growing dread, that he meet the eyes of an amused Draco Malfoy.

"Evening Potter," the infuriating blonde drawled from where he was leaning oh-so casually against the wall near Harry's bed. He looked the same as he always did when he came to stalk Harry, only this time he was shirtless. Harry only stared, stared at the pale creamy skin for a long moment, watching subtle muscles move under the soft skin. Harry's hand turned slick with sweat on his wand.

"I thought I told you to leave me the hell alone Malfoy," he hissed, leveling his wand threateningly at the other's naked chest. "And if you don't leave _now _you'll find yourself covered in warts!"

Malfoy actually had the arrogance to pout at Harry. "Come now Potter, we both know you don't really want to do that. In fact, you don't really want to point that wand at me at all….Well, point _that _wand at me at least."

Harry didn't even want to try to figure out what Malfoy meant; all he wanted to do now was just hex him into oblivion. How dare the blonde come here and ruin his good mood?

"Well if you really want to know I'm not ruining your mood," Malfoy replied, "I'm not ruining it at all."

Before he could stop himself, Harry started. He hadn't said that last part aloud, had he? Licking suddenly dry lips, Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously on the now smiling blonde. How could he smile? And…why didn't that smile look threatening? It looked just like a simple smile, but Harry was not fooled; he would die before he ever fell for one of Malfoy's tricks.

"But Harry, I'm not even trying to trick you in the first place," the smiling Malfoy said, his tone almost soft in Harry's ears. It only made Harry surer that it just had to be a trick; it just had to be.

"Yeah right Malfoy," he said darkly, "this whole thing is a trick, an illusion. _You're _an illusion sent to bother the hell out of me."

Malfoy blinked his long lashes, the smile slipping slightly from his face as he looked back at Harry in confusion. His silver hair fell and partially obscured his gleaming eyes.

"Bother you?" he repeated. His grey eyes seemed to soften in an emotion that Harry could almost determine as…pity. "I don't mean to bother you, not really. If anything, you seem to want to bother yourself Potter."

No. No, this was all wrong. Harry stared at Malfoy, at the image that looked like the arrogant prat he knew, but didn't act like him. Something was not matching up, and it was causing something to swell up in Harry' stomach, causing a bitter taste to arise in his mouth. It scared him, and from that fear he made himself only that much angrier.

"Stop trying to confuse me and just go the fuck away!" Tossing his arm out he sent a stream of red to where Malfoy had been standing casually, standing back and watching with blazing eyes as the image of Malfoy flickered as the hex passed right through him and created a hole in the drywall behind him. In the light of the fading hex, Malfoy's pale skin seemed to sparkle like diamonds.

Malfoy's image, still flickering, stared at Harry with darkened eyes for a long moment before that smile was back, magnetic, mysterious. With a flash, Malfoy completely vanished.

As soon as he was gone, Harry was on a mission. Tearing through his flat Harry furiously began to check any place that he could find; in every room, in every closet, behind the shower curtain, behind the counters; he even checked under the bed. And still no sign of the real Malfoy.

Snarling Harry tore out of his flat, racing down the hallway to the stairs and taking them two at a time to the street outside. It was just starting to rain and the streets were completely empty. Harry stood there for a long moment in the downpour, feeling the water sink into the fabric of his clothes to meet his skin, as though he expected Malfoy to turn the corner again any minute so that he could catch him, just catch him.

In the rain, Harry stood there and just waited for Malfoy to reappear.

-0-

Draco Malfoy was just settling down in the sitting room with a hot cup of tea when a thoroughly soaked, thoroughly livid Harry Potter marched into the room.

Draco's tea was taken from his hands and tossed across the room, spilling hot liquid as it hit the wall and shattered.

"Potter!" Draco half screamed as he suddenly found himself hoisted up by his collar and literally nose to nose with the boy-who-lived. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

Potter's eyes, so close, seemed to burn Draco alive. "What am _I _doing?" the raven haired man repeated harshly, his hot breath skimming across Draco's face. "What do you think _you're _doing, Malfoy?"

Draco could not help but be temporarily tongue-tied by the closeness of Potter. Hell, the man was all but pressing him up against his body!

That lean, taunt body—

Draco, feeling panic arise within him at where his thoughts were going, started to feeble struggle in Potter's iron hold. Why the hell did he have to leave his wand upstairs? He should have known by now that Potter would be after him again, just as he had been last time. His struggles only made Potter—the idiot—pull him even closer so that they really were flush together. Shit.

"I'm certainly not holding people against their will like you're doing Potter! Damn you, let me go!"

Draco tried to kick Harry in the shin only to find himself pressed back against a wall, Potter's entire body—damn, did he have to be wet?—now pinning his down. And by the looks of Potter's face, so close to his own, Potter was beyond pissed right now—he was about to murder Draco and stuff him under the floorboards so that the house elves could never find the evidence.

"Let me go now," Draco tried to threaten as Potter practically breathed down on him, "or I'll scream!"

"No you won't," Potter calmly whispered in his ear. Draco felt a wand come up between their bodies and press against the underside of his chin. "Because if you do, I'll mangle your face up. Besides, I only want to have a…chat with you."

Draco forced himself to throw his best Malfoy glare up at Potter. "We already had a chat a week ago, if you remember, and nothing's changed! Now let—"

"Oh things have changed Malfoy," Potter hissed, and his warm breath heated Draco's face. "And not how I wanted them too. Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?"

Malfoy gave him a withering look. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that Potter?"

Potter did not deign him with a response, instead leaning in closer to Draco until the blonde was slightly breathless, trapped between the hard wall and the hard body. Potter did not once look away from him; Potter didn't even seem to blink.

Potter's eyes were all that Draco could see as he forgot how to scream.

"I should kill you right now, Malfoy," Potter muttered lowly into the shell of his ear, "for all that you've been putting me through."

Draco, to his utter embarrassment, found himself shaking and he did not know why. Was it because his life was getting threatened, or because Potter was so close to him? He had to be shaking from disgust; he just had to be…

"W-what exactly have I put you through Potter?" he managed to rasp out, cringing at how breathless his voice sounded. Potter's eyes, like the eyes of any predator, darkened on him.

"You still deny it?" Potter hissed, "Even as I threaten your life, you're still going to deny it?"

"P-please Potter, you're hardly threatening my life," Draco tried to scoff. "You're hardly doing anything to me at all."

That was a lie, and they both knew it. They could both feel Draco's body trembling, and through the thin layers of their shirts they could both feel Draco's heart frantically racing, no matter how many times he told it to calm down. What Potter didn't know though was the true reason for Draco's reactions; the true reason which Draco himself didn't really want to find out.

He was afraid, but of what?

"I'll do something soon Malfoy, if you don't start talking," Potter whispered dangerously, his wand jabbing Draco's chin up so that he was forced to continue looking at those emerald eyes. "Now tell me why you're stalking me now. Tell me the spell you're using; tell me all of it."

Draco's mind, distracted by the feeling of Potter so close, struggled to catch up. Stalking…? Potter had rambled something about that before a week ago, when they had first had their impromptu meeting. But Draco still could not figure out at all what Potter was even trying to say. And what about a spell?

"Potter," Draco began slowly, beseechingly. "I told you last time—I have no idea what you're prattling on about, but you're obviously still out of your mind. So why don't you just—"

"I'm not kidding around here Malfoy," Potter snarled suddenly, his face moving closer so that he was infinitely closer to Draco. Draco, for his part, suddenly found it hard to keep the flush from spreading across his cheeks. "Just tell me why and how and I might just not kill you."

Draco struggled to find words for this situation as he fought desperately to ignore everything about Potter that was suddenly assaulting him. He knew he was attracted to Potter but he refused to ever act on it! "I don't know anything Potter! Clearly you've got the wrong person!"

Potter's eyes flashed brightly. "Oh I know it has to be you Malfoy. No one else would want to ever be _you_!" Potter was leaning closer and closer and, oh god—was that Potter's breath he felt on his lips? Draco renewed his feeble struggles, in the process feeling every curve and dip of Potter's dampened body. His heart began to pound faster and harder and louder—so loud that it seemed to Draco to fill up the silence between them as Draco's silver eyes stared into green ones.

And somewhere, in his struggling, Draco fell forward. And somehow, in his struggling, Draco found his lips latching onto Potter's.

And his heart finally grew still and silent in his chest.

_Oh Merlin…_

This had to be the end. As Draco stood there, pressed against Potter with their lips stuck together, Draco knew that the world really was about to end. Potter's green eyes, even hindered by his glasses, stared back into Draco's in pure shock. Neither moved; neither moved to pull away.

Frozen, Draco nearly cracked into a thousand pieces when Potter subtly pressed more into him, pressing him back, pressing him down.

And suddenly it wasn't such an accident anymore. A twist of the head, a slight movement of the lips and it was so much more.

When Potter pressed against him again Draco no longer tried to struggle; he no longer even tried to think. As Potter pressed into him he pressed back; as Potter took he gave, parting his lips so that Potter's tongue could snake into his mouth and lap him up. And he was being electrocuted. Every touch a bolt of energy, a spark that lit something deep with him, caught and trailing on Potter's hands as they caressed his sides.

Up and down, up and down until it was all that Draco could feel. Lips were ferociously attacking his, tongue in one another's cheek, teeth scraping and colliding without pain, with only feeling.

When they both pulled away to breathe, it did not feel like it was really over at all; no, to Draco it felt like it had all just started. And meeting Potter's eyes through the haze that seemed to have enveloped them both, Draco saw in those green eyes that the other felt the same way.

It would have been impossible for them to have known exactly how far that single kiss would have led them. Draco could have assumed that in the end that one kiss would have turned into a thousand and from those thousand they all led them to the bedroom, the couch, or even up against that very wall. It would have happened, and it should have happened, if reality hadn't gotten right there in the way.

The sound of someone entering the room seemed to echo so loudly between their panted breaths. Oh Merlin…

Draco was sorely tempted to just completely ignore the newfound audience and continuing happily snogging Potter. It was Potter though who didn't seem too keen on that idea. Potter jumped away from him so fast that Draco nearly almost fell as he lost the support of the other man's body.

Catching himself just in time Draco looked first over to the doorway to see none other than Pansy Parkinson standing there, looking both ill and shocked as she stared at Potter. Following the his friend's gaze, Draco found that now, instead of holding the ecstasy that Draco wanted it to hold, Potter's expression was twisted into one of unparalleled horror.

Oh. Well that certainly did wonders for Draco's ego. His stomach felt itself plummet as his eyes met Potter's widened shocked ones, and he barely repressed his hurt. It seemed that Potter had finally come to his senses, now that the accident kiss was over.

And that was all it had been to Potter—an accident kiss. Draco forced himself to find words.

"Potter—" he tried, but by then it was already too late. His voice seemed to snap Potter out of whatever terrified daze he had gotten himself into as he stared back at Draco as though seeing him for the first time.

Before Draco could catch sight of the disgust he expected to see, Potter turned away from him and was turning a deep scarlet. Draco watched a bead of perspiration fall down his temple as Potter swallowed audibly, looking everywhere now but at Draco and Snape.

"Er, I have to go," Potter hurried out, throwing one last look at Draco out of the corner of his eye—or at least, Draco thought he did—before swiftly, with long strides that showed his barely tamed panic, walking past Pansy and out the door.

Draco listened to his footsteps until he could not hear them anymore before sagging back against the wall, suddenly feeling so drained. He had nearly forgotten that Pansy was there at all until she cleared her throat rather loudly, catching Draco's attention. By the horrified look on her face, Draco knew that he owed her some kind of answer.

The only problem was what kind of answer could he give him when he could not think of one himself?

"Draco Malfoy kissing Harry Potter," Pansy slowly stated, stepping further into the room to sink into the nearest chair. "That was something not even I would ever suspect."

"You don't have to suspect anything Panse because that was the first, and I'm sure the only time now, that that has happened. Hell, Potter even took me by surprise!" Draco sighed, "It was all…just an accident."

Pansy, starting to recover from her shock, raised a sarcastic black brow. "Really?" she drawled, "because from the view I had, everything certainly looked deliberate."

Draco shot her a glare as he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "We just got lost in the moment. Or at least, I did…I don't know what the hell Potter's problem was though."

"I think, Draco, that you have a bigger problem—you're attracted to Potter and you're actually admitting it. That is something to worry about!"

"Pansy you've always known I've had a crush on Potter," Draco groaned, falling back against the wall. "Remember Hogwarts?"

Pansy rolled her dark eyes. "Merlin, how could I ever forget the way you lamented about Potter everyday?"

Draco looked over to her, spluttering. "Lamented?! Parkinson, you obviously are starting to let your mind slip. I certainly never lamented about Potter, only—"

"Bitched about him? Yakked about him? Obsessed about him?" Pansy supplied, smirking at Draco's glower. "Yes Draco, you did do all of those. It really makes me wonder now why I never strangled your pale neck back then."

"Pansy dear, cut the dramatics, it wasn't that bad…especially since I never expected Potter to ever reciprocate my feelings." Draco thought back on the way Potter had kissed him, back to the ferocity of that single kiss, and felt goose bumps form on his skin. "He could have pulled away you know," he muttered, more to himself than to Pansy. "He could have easily pulled away in disgust but…he didn't."

_He didn't…_

Pansy pursed her lips to hide the grin that threatened to overtake her face at Draco's dazed expression. "And what does that tell you about Potter?" she asked calmly and watched as Draco slowly shook his head, his eyes on the broken teacup on the floor by the wall.

"I…have no idea Panse. I have no idea at all."

"Are you going to do anything about it?" Pansy asked softly, her usually impassive eyes holding something akin to sympathy as she watched Draco groan and beat his head back against the wall.

"Do anything about it? No," he shook his head slowly, "Potter was the one that started this all by randomly popping back into my life; I'll let him decide how to end it. If he'll even have the courage to do so…"

"Drake, are you forgetting that Potter was the most Gryffindorish person in all of Hogwarts? Trust me, that boy will definitely have the courage."

Draco didn't answer her as he started to slide down the wall, his eyes still staring over at the broken teacup, at the white shards of glass. He knew that Potter would eventually work up the courage to come back to him, but what he really wanted to know was if he could work up the courage to even be in Potter's presence any more at all.

-0-

Harry did not go back to his flat. Maybe it was from fear that Malfoy would be waiting for him there, or maybe it was just the fear of being alone to think about the repercussions of what had just happened. Harry didn't know, nor did he really care to think about it as he arrived, still pale and shaking, in the fireplace at the Burrow. His feet carried him through the familiar living room into the new sitting area—placed there by Hermione when she and Ron took over the Burrow—to find his best friends bent excitedly over a book.

Neither looked up as he entered the room, and it was only when he had collapsed into the nearest chair that they seemed to notice him and glanced over, identical beams on their faces.

"Harry we have the best news!" Hermione began excitedly, "I'm—what is wrong with you?"

One look at Harry's rather traumatized looking expression and Hermione abandoned all her happiness to stare at him in concern. Even Ron was starting to look concerned, and he was never one to really notice things in others.

"Harry…?" Hermione questioned again when Harry did not seem to answer her. Harry simply could not answer her. What was wrong, exactly? Everything. He could still taste Malfoy on his lips and it made his stomach turn in a way that he could not help feeling was not all that unpleasant.

Not all that unpleasant at all. And that only increased his ever mounting anxiety. He barely saw Ron and Hermione who were both leaning toward him now, desperate to help him. But how could they help him? Would they even want to when they realized what he had done?

It had started off as an accident, but then…But then Harry's mind grew cloudy. Then it became more than an accident and more of a…

"Mione," he finally managed to choke out, "I need to talk to you in the kitchen. Ron…Hermione will tell you about it later, I guess, but I really need to just talk."

He wanted to tell Ron too, he really did, but it was the red head's reaction to the news that he feared the worst. Surely Ron would never believe that he had kissed Draco Malfoy _of his own free will. _Indeed, in that sitting room there had been no spells that had made him kiss Malfoy when those lips had fallen on his; there had been no illusions. Malfoy had been so warm and real and compliant beneath him—

Harry's panic was quickly reaching a level of eruption as Hermione nodded at him and stood from the couch, throwing one last look at her husband before taking the faintly trembling Harry's hand and leading him through the doors to the kitchen. Casting a silencing spell in case her husband decided to try to pry, Hermione directed her shocked friend into a chair at the kitchen table before sitting across from him, still keeping a firm grip on his hand as she studied him with dark, worried eyes.

"Alright Harry we're alone. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

All the breath that Harry had not realized he'd been holding released from him in Malfoy's name. "Malfoy happened."

Hermione nodded sharply, squeezing Harry's hand gently. "I figured it had something to do with him. Did you go and see him again Harry?"

Harry could only nod numbly. "I saw him…"

"And what happened?" Hermione gently pressed, "Did you get into another fight?"

Harry's trembling started up again, full force. "A fight?" he rasped, chuckling frantically. "Oh, we got in a fight alright, only it was different then before Mione, it was…"

It was so many things that Harry could not stop thinking about, even as it terrified him. Why couldn't he just forget it?

"It was what Harry?" Hermione quietly asked, stroking her friend's hand. "What was it?"

Harry's green eyes were strangely bright as they met Hermione's, his still kiss swollen lips moving to form that unbelievable sentence. "I kissed Draco Malfoy."

Even that took the perceptive Hermione Granger—now Weasley—by surprise. "Kissed him?" she slowly repeated, trying her best to hide her incredulity from Harry. "Did you…mean to kiss him?"

Instantly Harry started to shake his head, his grip on her hand tightening. "No, Merlin no I never meant to kiss him! It was all an accident and he…"

He kissed him back…

"So you kissed him," Hermione said as calmly as possible, "And then…?"

"That's it!" Harry exclaimed in frustration, "Thank god Parkinson arrived though because it could have—"

He cut himself off abruptly then, realizing the full impact of the words he had been about to say. Because if Parkinson hadn't arrived, that kiss and all its heat would have surely ended up in the bedroom, or the floor, or anywhere so long as there had been more kisses—

"Oh God Mione," Harry choked out, cradling his head in his free hand. "We would have has sex. Malfoy and I—oh God, oh Merlin, oh…oh…"

"Harry, deep breaths," Hermione instructed, "Come on, maybe you were under something? You wouldn't willingly want to shag Malfoy—"

"He didn't even have his wand on him Hermione!" Harry groaned, "He couldn't have done anything to me, and he looked just as shocked as me by the way things turned out!"

"Maybe he was faking the shock," Hermione tried to reason, "He might have wanted to shag you all along which is why he started to stalk you—"

"No," Harry rapidly shook his head, "you weren't there, you didn't…you didn't see him. You didn't…feel him. He actually submitted to me Hermione; for awhile I…controlled him…"

And he was not ready to admit to himself just how much he had enjoyed that.

But while he was not quite ready to admit the obvious, Hermione took one look at Harry's faraway gaze and came to the conclusion. "You enjoyed it," she said flatly, s smirk pulling at her lips at the affronted look he gave her.

"I did not!" he growled, "It was disgusting! Mione, it was _Malfoy! _How could I enjoy anything involving him?"

Hermione shrugged lightly, her smirk widening. "I don't know Harry, I wasn't there remember? Maybe Malfoy just has a magic mouth?"

The shocked expression that crossed Harry's face was too much for Hermione as she burst into giggles, releasing Harry's hands to belatedly cover her mouth and try to cover the giggles as a cough. Too bad Harry had to be perceptive.

"You're laughing at me!" he angrily growled, pushing back his chair and standing up to glare down at her. "How the hell can you even laugh about this?!"

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed, repressing a smile in the face of her friend's anger. "Stop trying to delude yourself. You enjoyed the kiss, and you enjoyed it with _Malfoy_. As disturbing as it is, you can't keep telling yourself that you hated it when you were the one who initiated it."

Harry stepped away from her as though her words were acid being spit at him. "I didn't initiate it," he hissed, "It started as an accident—"

"Then why'd you hunt Malfoy out again in the first place?"

"You know why! He was stalking me again so I went there to threaten him again—"

Hermione gave him her patented disapproving glare. "Didn't I tell you to just go talk to the Ministry? They would have—"

"Oh shut up Hermione!" Harry snapped, "I told you before, this is all just between me and Malfoy! I don't want anyone else interfering!"

Annoyed now, Hermione stood up as well. "Why not Harry? Clearly things between you and Malfoy are not quite right! It would be better if you just stayed away from him altogether!"

"Trust me," Harry ground out, "that's something I want to do, but I can't—"

"You can't?" Hermione challenged, leveling him with a dark, knowing gaze, "Or you don't want to?"

"What?" Harry stared at her, "Why would I ever want to see Malfoy at all?"

"I don't know Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You tell me. Clearly that kiss said a lot."

Harry froze and winced at the mention of the kiss, his eyes starting to blaze. "You know nothing Hermione," he said coldly, "that kiss was nothing, and Malfoy is nothing. Trust me, it'll never happen again. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go home."

He could not bear to be in her presence anymore; not when her words were pressing into his rib cage, trying to crush him. He turned his back on her to walk out of the kitchen and back into the sitting room, where Ron greeted him with a small smile that he forced himself to return.

"You all done talking to Mione?" Ron asked and Harry nodded sharply, heading toward the living room to leave. "Sorry Ron, I can't stay tonight, I have to get home and do some things."

"He needs to go home and be a coward," Hermione spoke up coldly from the doorway to the kitchen as she entered the room. Harry did not look back at either of them as he stepped into the living room. Just as the door was about to swing shut behind him he heard Hermione's voice call to him one last time.

"By the way, I'm pregnant."

The door slammed shut and Harry did not turn back.

-0-

Harry knew that Hermione had every right to be mad at him; hell, he was mad at himself. He had gotten irrationally angry and he still could not pinpoint why, although he was sure that it had something to do with something Hermione had said to him.

Perhaps it was all that Hermione had said to him.

Harry had always prided himself on his bravery; he had not been in Gryffindor for nothing, after all. He wondered where his courage had gone now though as he drank another bottle of beer alone and pitiful in his apartment. He should go back to apologize to Hermione, to wish her and Ron congratulations on the baby as he should have already done, but…he couldn't. Too much had happened and he felt very closed in all of a sudden, by the kiss, by Hermione's words, by Malfoy…

It always led back to Malfoy.

Growling softly to himself Harry threw his now empty beer bottle against the wall and watched it fall with the sound of splintering glass to the ground. In the light of the kitchen, the shards appeared almost silver—the color of one Draco Malfoy's eyes.

"This is ridiculous," Harry huffed to himself as he waved his wand, vanishing the bottle and glass pieces. "I should not be thinking this much about Draco—"

"You called?" a familiar voice to his right drawled, and, tensing in growing horror, Harry slowly turned to see the now too familiar form of the STILL shirtless Draco Malfoy illusion standing next to his stove. Harry bit back a scream.

"_You_," he snarled coldly, "I've certainly seen enough of you!"

Malfoy just rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "Well I for one don't think that you have."

"Just shut up!" Harry glared, going into the familiar motion of aiming his wand at Malfoy. He tried his best not to think about the last time he had had his wand aimed at Malfoy, how warm the other man's skin had been against his own, those close those silver eyes had been—

He tried his best not to think about it, but with Malfoy standing right there, bare skin of his chest looking as smooth as it had been when Harry had touched him, lips as pink as they had been when they had covered his own, he just could not get the thoughts away.

Malfoy's lips curved up into a seductive smirk, immediately making Harry's nerves stand on end as he narrowed his eyes at the blonde. "I know what you're thinking about," Malfoy sing-songed, and Harry tried his best to hide his flinch.

"What am I thinking about then?" Harry challenged, not really wanting to believe that Malfoy actually could read his thoughts.

Malfoy's smirk turned into a sly smile that made Harry's heart beat start to speed up, unbidden, in his chest. "You're thinking about what happened between us earlier, and how much you want it to happen again," the ex-Slytherin all but purred out, and Harry's face started to go red.

"No, I think you're the one thinking about that Malfoy," he managed to throw back, "Now tell me where the fuck you're hiding so that I can hex you out of my apartment!"

"Hiding?" Malfoy arched his perfect blonde brow. "Trust me, Harry, I'm certainly not hiding."

"Don't call me Harry!" the raven-haired man snapped furiously. He could not stand to hear his name from those lips, not after all that had happened between them. No…it was too personal, way too personal. "And for Merlin's sake put a damn shirt on!"

Malfoy's lips turned into an all too familiar smirk. "Why? Clearly you're enjoying it. And don't you think that we should be on first name basis now after what's happened between us, _Harry_?"

Enraged Harry didn't think as he cast a hex, his magic destroying his cabinets as Malfoy safely disappeared only to reappear again sitting on Harry's kitchen table. "Temper, temper!" the blonde winked, "I like that in a man."

"Just shut the fuck up and leave me alone you pompous git!" Harry roared, "All of this is your fault!"

He cast an imploding hex that ended up destroying his kitchen table as the magic once again passed through Malfoy. Harry had had enough. "Come out and face me yourself you coward!" he screamed into the room, whirling around frantically on the spot, trying to find wherever the real Malfoy was hiding. "You fucking coward!"

"Now that isn't nice," the illusion of Malfoy pouted from behind him, and Harry tensed, gritting his teeth as he resisted the urge to turn around. "If anyone's a coward here, it would be you _Potter_."

"How am I a coward?" Harry demanded, "I'm not the one who—"

"Denies everything? The one who would rather fantasize instead of ever actually having the true thing? Come now Potter, think it through."

Whirling around, he glared into the illusion of Malfoy's eyes again. "I have never denied anything, nor fantasized about it! Quit trying to mess with my head!"

"Mess with your head?" Malfoy tilted his head to the side, his long silver locks falling over his shoulder. With the blink of Harry's eyes Malfoy was suddenly wearing a shirt, and not just any shirt—the shirt he had been wearing when they had kissed. Harry felt his throat go dry.

"What the hell—"

"How can I mess with your head…?" Malfoy smirked, leaning in until he was nose to nose with Harry. Harry gasped at the feeling of hot breath that should not be there on his face, his lips. He could see right through Malfoy's eyes, in them seeing only the green of his own. "When it's already messed up?"

"What…?" Harry could only desperately whisper before Malfoy's lips, so cold that they burned, were pressed to his again. They seeped into his as translucent arms fell right through him, Malfoy's lips becoming his own as Harry closed his eyes and exhaled, kissing back against the fading pressure with a desperation that surprised even him. In his ears he heard the buzz of Malfoy's voice.

"You see Harry? I've always been here, just waiting for you, and now that you have the real thing…"

The pressure was gone as quickly as it had come, and Harry opened his eyes to find himself standing all alone in his kitchen, standing amongst the rubble of the destroyed kitchen table.

All alone…

Sinking to his knees Harry dropped his wand and grabbed his head. All alone…

"Oh Merlin…"

It all made sense now. The stalking, Malfoy's—the real Malfoy's—startled face, Hermione's desperation for him to get the Ministry's help, the fake Malfoy's different personality... Made sense…

"_Ron and I met you there, didn't we? I'm surprised we didn't see him… Did he meet you outside?"_

No one had seen him, no one but himself…

"_He just…stares at me…"_

He had never done anything, nothing at all…

"_In my house, standing next to my bed…"_

"_Talk to his illusion, I'm sure he'll have something to say!"_

He was always there…

"_You think I'm lying?! You're insane!"_

Because in the end, his stalker, that illusion of Malfoy, had not been a spell, a dark manipulation; he had never vanished through a Portkey or some form of Apparition but…

He had all only been in his head, a trick of his mind. He had been _fantasizing _about Malfoy without even knowing it, and now that he did…

Standing in his destroyed kitchen, Harry Potter could think of only one thing to do.

-0-

Draco had tried his best to keep his mind away from Potter and the unexpected kiss for hours now. Buried in his father's old study he scanned through old magic books with the single minded obsession of forgetting everything. None of the books were interesting; the Ministry had seized all the books on dark magic upon his father's death, leaving Draco with just the simpleton books full of knowledge he already knew.

Not that he was really reading it, not at all. The words were a blur on the pages before him, one clump of letters after another after another until it was all a jumbled mess that he could not process. He couldn't seem to process anything anymore.

It was as though with that kiss Potter had stolen all of Draco's thoughts, all of his feelings, from him in one fell swoop, leaving him an achingly empty husk with a heart that simply would not quiet down. His heartbeat was all he heard.

"This is ridiculous!" he huffed to himself when he failed to comprehend the entire paragraph his eyes had just scanned. "It was just one kiss; I've been kissed before! Hell, I've had much better snogs then _Potter's_…"

But even as he said it, his heart did not once falter in its steady, loud beating.

Growling to himself he went to stand up and grab another book from the shelf when the doorknob to his study started to rattle. Freezing up he stared over at the doorknob, wondering who the hell would want to visit him at this hour.

"Who is it?" he called through the door, trying to keep the panic out of his voice as one horrible possibility after another filled his mind. Was it the Ministry here to arrest him for looking at spell books? Was it some ex-Death Eaters wanting their revenge on the Malfoy family?

Or was it…

Before he could draw his wand and cast a spell the door was suddenly being thrown off its hinges, the force of the spell used sending it hurtling across the room to hit the opposite wall, right next to where Draco was huddled behind his desk.

Yelping in horror, he ducked down behind his desk without thinking, hoping that the intruder had not seen him. He listened with bated breath as heavy footsteps echoed off the hardwood floor, the sound as loud as his heartbeat was. There was a pause, a creak of the floor when the person shifted and then a gruff voice—

"Malfoy?"

Draco completely froze. Oh Merlin, it just had to be the worst of all possibilities, didn't it? He briefly considered just staying under the desk until that deep voice spoke again, angrily. "I know you're down there Malfoy. Get up."

When a Malfoys pride was wounded, he could only try to defend it. Draco slowly picked himself up off the ground and tried his best to hide his trembling as he began to stand up. If he was murdered, then at least he would die with his chin up damn it! Breathing in deeply to calm his nerves, Draco carefully looked up into the glaring face of one Harry Potter.

Stiffening his spine and standing up tall, Draco forced himself to meet those sparking green eyes with a look of indifference. "Yes Potter?" he drawled, rather weakly. "What is it I can do for you now?"

Potter's eyes darkened and Draco felt his breath hitch. Apparently he had said something wrong. As Potter took a heavy step toward him, Draco _knew _he had said something wrong. As Potter began to advance on him as he quickly backed up, silently cursing as his back hit the book shelf behind him. Maybe he could throw a book at Potter to keep him at bay?

But it was too late now for that. Seeing Draco start to reach up for the heaviest book Potter lunged forward, a predator about to devour its prey, and grabbed both of Draco's wrists, twisting them almost painfully as Draco gasped and tried to wiggle away.

And suddenly they were in the exact positions they had been in just hours before; Potter pinning Draco to a wall with his hard body and their mouths, oh Merlin their mouths, inches away from one another's. It took all of Draco's willpower not to cry out in dismay as he tried his best to glare coldly at the dark-haired man holding him down.

"Potter, this is the second time today you've insisted upon pinning me to a wall," Draco cursed himself when he heard his voice shake. "Do you have a fetish for this thing or something?"

Potter's eyes were a storm. "Shut up," he glared, "Just shut the hell up for one minute of your life Malfoy, and let me try something."

"Let you try something?" Draco gaped, "Why would I let you try anything at—mmff!"

Lips slammed down on his, brutal and searing and effectively cut him off. What ever Draco had been about to say was lost as Potter forcefully parted his lips with his tongue to lap at the insides of Draco's mouth.

Potter's tongue, Draco was quickly starting to learn, should be illegal. He knew that Potter was a Parselmouth but Merlin, the things that that tongue could do! Draco could not even think at all, that magical tongue seeming to suck and stroke everything out of him until he was just a quivering mass of nerves.

When Potter broke the kiss and they gasped for air Draco scrambled to collect himself, to react, to do something, until Potter—damn him—began to trail that wicked mouth across the pale skin of his neck, and Draco was gone again.

"Uh, Potter," he heard himself gasping as Potter licked a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. Potter just kept on licking him, although Draco could have sworn he felt those lips turn up in a slight smirk. But that didn't matter now. Draco's top priority was to keep Potter's lips on his skin as long as possible, even if that meant that Potter asphyxiated himself; it didn't matter so long as that mouth was there, right _there._

Potter bite down harshly on the place where Draco's shoulder met his neck and the blonde just barely managed to keep from screaming in surprise at the pain followed quickly by the rough feeling of Potter's tongue. Oh yes, the pain, the pleasure…

Draco was thoroughly hypnotized by the time Potter pulled back but didn't release his hands, keeping Draco there pinned at his mercy as the blonde looked up at him with dazed silver eyes. One look at those eyes and a growl erupted from Potter's throat, and Draco only saw a flash of dark green before Potter was ravishing his lips again.

"Damn you," Potter panted against his lips, "Malfoy this is all your fault."

Draco slowly comprehended Potter's words as the dark haired man released his hands to start tearing at the buttons of his shirt, kissing and biting at every inch of pale skin exposed as the buttons scattered. Draco could only moan helplessly.

"How is it….ngnnnn…my fault…Potter?" Draco rasped back as his shirt was torn off his shoulders and quickly tossed aside. Hot hands roamed over his skin and Draco nearly cried out at the feeling of those calloused, battle hardened fingers skimming over the soft skin of his ribcage, catching and pulling at his muscles.

Potter didn't answer him as he set to work on removing his own shirt through flurried, rough kisses, his tongue scrapping Draco's palate and making the other man make a keen purring sound in the back of his throat.

"You wouldn't leave me alone," Potter hissed as he ripped away Draco's belt, the blonde gasping his appreciation into his mouth. "Touch me, damn you!"

Draco's hands found themselves guided by Potter's over the Savior's tan-kissed flesh, and Draco had never been harder as he felt the ridges of each of Potter's exquisite muscles flex beneath the pads of his fingers. "Oh Merlin," he hoarsely whispered, "Oh…"

Potter roughly yanked Draco to him by the hips, their bare chests meeting as their hips ground together for the first time, Draco's cry of delight coinciding with Harry's deep groan. Draco could only press harder into the hardness against him, wiggling his hips in a way that he knew full well would drive Potter mad; hell, it would drive any man mad. Sure enough Potter choked out a groan before pushing Draco towards the study desk and pushing him down on it, scattering the books and papers that had been previously occupying it away with a surge of wandless magic that left Draco even more breathless.

Draco had only a second to remember that his late father had always worked at this exact desk before Potter was leaning over him, his eyes wide and dark and bottomless. Draco reached up and drove his fingers into the wild raven locks as Potter covered his body with his own, hard lines meeting hard lines as their erections slid together as their hips aligned. Potter was starting to bite and nibble and oh Merlin, lick his way down Draco's chest to his navel, biting one of Draco's hipbones protruding from where his pants had slipped and making Draco arch up into him with a gurgling sound.

"Potter, oh Merlin Potter!" Draco gasped as he finally felt the sexy git start to unzip his pants and free him. Potter held him in his hands for a moment, but it was a long enough moment to make the now painfully hard and burning erect Draco open his eyes and stare down to Potter to see what the problem was.

The image hit him like a bludger to the head. In the faint light of the study Potter's tan skin seemed to glow golden, the corded muscles of his body perfectly highlighting every lovely pec. His dark fall of hair a tangled, sex tousled mane that perfectly outlined the chiseled lines of his face. Somewhere along the lines he had lost his glasses and he now stared at Draco without any obstructions, and the green eyes, so darkened in lust and passion, somehow seemed that much more intense.

Kiss reddened lips parted under Draco's stunned perusal, quirking into a slight smirk. "Like what you see, Malfoy?"

Draco's own eyes were molten silver as they met Harry's burning emerald ones. "I'd like it even more," the blonde drawled, "if you would take your pants off."

Those seemed to be the magic words as Potter's eyes took on a dark gleam that had the word Slytherin popping unexpectedly into Draco's head. Who would have figured the Golden Gryffindor was really a snake after all?

"Patience Malfoy," Potter hissed back, moving down his body. "It's a virtue."

Draco thought that he almost loved Potter then, as he was drawn into that hot, wicked mouth and left to die by the inner fire blazing inside of him. Those green eyes watched him as he twisted and moaned, trying desperately to arch his hips and nearly choking Potter until the Auror used his strong hands to pin Draco's hips down and hold him still as he continued his feast, seemingly unconcerned to the pleasured agony Draco was currently wreathed in under his assault. Draco retaliated by reaching down and grabbing tufts of dark hair in a grip he was sure probably hurt, and yet Potter barely seemed to notice.

Bloody git with that amazing—

"Oh Merlin Potter!" Draco heard himself whimpering through a haze as Potter sucked him so hard, deep throated him so deep that it seemed unnatural. The vibrations, the slick, moist cavern—

It was enough to make Draco come undone, his fists clenching in dark raven locks as he exploded in Potter's mouth in a burst of light. He was vaguely aware of falling back on to the desk as Potter continued to suck him dry, and his heart had never beat so loudly as he felt Potter finally release him.

It seemed impossible, but as Draco squinted his eyes to look at Potter only to see him licking at the white that remained on his lips, the ex-Slytherin felt himself start to feel the stirrings in his groin again. So quickly…

He knew then, as Potter moved in to kiss him again, that he really could not seem to get enough of Potter, especially now that he knew how much his body wanted him. Oh Merlin he wanted him…

"Potter," he muttered into that delicious mouth, "I want you to fuck me."

Potter abruptly pulled back at his words to stare down at him with slightly wide eyes. Draco felt the faintest shiver travel over the Auror's skin beneath his hands as Potter swallowed heavily, a flash of uncertainty, the first that Draco had seen in over two years, crossing his face.

"Malfoy, I don't—"

But Malfoys had never been good at waiting, or accepting no as an answer. With a twist of his body Draco had the startled Potter pinned beneath him. Now he was the one in control. Smirking devilishly at the rapidly blinking Potter, Draco made quick work of divesting the other of his jeans and boxers, and before Potter even knew what was happening Draco was starting to push down on him, enveloping Potter's cock with one long graceful down ward slide.

Draco admitted to himself that it hurt a little—okay, maybe a lot, his ass was on fire!—but the look on Potter's face, that expression of unadulterated ecstasy, just had to be worth it. Potter's eyes were rolling back in his head as he reached up blindly and grabbed Draco's slim hips, holding him in place with a bruising grip as Draco prepared to push down again.

"I don't want to hurt you," Potter managed to get out between his panted breaths, his eyes opening at half mast to meet Draco's light ones. "You have to take it—Ahh!"

If Draco didn't like not getting what he wanted, he didn't like being told to do even more. Distracting Potter with a sloppy kiss Draco broke free from his strong grip to snap his hips down again and make Potter cry out into his mouth.

When he pulled back Potter's eyes were positively glowing up at him. Draco smirked, feeling inexplicably satisfied to be under that intense gaze. "Don't tell me what to do Potter," Draco said simply, as he moved back against Potter and felt the man beneath him start to growl and moan.

It only took one more thrust before Draco found his sweet spot and Potter could not take it anymore. With a deep snarl the raven haired man was twisting Draco around so that he was the one in control. Or rather, by his dark gaze, the one out of control.

Draco could only writhe and cry out as Potter began to thrust in sporadic movements into him, hitting him harder and deeper with each stroke until Draco was incoherent, clutching Potter to him through flashes of color, through sweat and pleasure that cemented them together, bodies brushing, Potter's heart beating inside his, so close yet not, yet not—

"HARRY!" Draco screamed as everything exploded, thick white streams splattering everywhere as Potter slammed into him one final time. Potter's arms squeezed around him as the Auror groaned his release into the pale sweaty skin of Draco's neck. "Draco," he rasped against the trembling flesh, pressing his lips everywhere he could as Draco fell back on him, all around him.

Together they collapsed.

Draco was just starting to catch his breath when Potter began to move away from him and the Malfoy felt his heart begin to throb. He didn't know entirely why he did it, but as Potter let go of him Draco held on, his arms twining around Potter's neck. Consequently Potter pulled them both up, Draco burying his face into Potter's thick hair as they stood there, still naked and pressed up against each other, in the aftermath of what had just happened.

It was not often, in Draco's opinion at least, that a Malfoy got scared. They got startled yes, they got confused but scared? Draco could only ever remember one other time where he had truly felt afraid, and that had been the first time he had met Harry Potter, the very same man he was so thoroughly wrapped around.

Draco had wanted to make a good impression on Harry Potter, had wanted to be his best friend, but somewhere along the line, from Draco's own arrogance, he had let the opportunity slide by. And now?

Now he just didn't know what to do.

It certainly was not everyday that he had sex with his old school rival, nor was it everyday that he felt so…light. He should have cringed at describing himself in such a way but in Potter's arms, he didn't feel like doing much of anything. He wanted it to last, even if it meant never looking into Potter's face again to see the disgust, to see the signs of regret he knew had to be there.

He wouldn't delude himself into thinking that what had just happened between them meant anything, and it certainly hadn't changed anything. In fact, Draco was still surprised Potter was here at all; he should be long gone by now, with his libido satisfied.

"Malfoy," Potter whispered—no, demanded—in his ear. Ah, so it was back to last names now, was it? Draco tried his best to shake off the chill that entered as he unfolded himself from Potter's arms, knowing that he had certainly overstayed his use.

"Potter," he muttered back. His eyes were on the carpet. "I suppose I'll be seeing you around then?"

He tried to keep the hopeful note out of his voice; he didn't really want to see Potter again that badly, did he? Especially if all it meant was a quick fuck. But what a fuck it was…

Draco still did not let himself look at Potter as he gathered his clothes. It was so quiet that Draco actually started to think Potter had just left. He was just about to throw on his boxers when a rough familiar tanned hand caught his. Starting, Draco looked up without thinking of the consequences to meet the brightest eyes he had ever seen.

Potter stared down at him from an impassive face, although there was a small smile tugging at his lips. That small smile blew Draco's world apart. Why was Potter smiling? Oh Merlin, what if he was actually going to thank Malfoy for the shag? The thought alone made a sharp pain shoot through his chest. Why the fuck did it have to mean so much to him? And why of all people did it have to be Potter? Potter, the boy he had always tried to impress; Potter, the only one who ever seemed worthy of him; Potter...

"I suppose you want me to tell you that that was the best shag I've ever had?" Draco snarked, his thoughts making him too agitated to care about what he was saying. "Because I'm telling you now Potter that it was just…okay."

"Just okay?" he heard Potter huff in indignation. He snatched his hand from Potter's and went about putting his boxers back on, ignoring the fact that Potter's presence next to him was making him half hard.

He tried his best not to look at Potter again at all, now afraid that Potter would do nothing but mock him. Unfortunately for Draco however, Potter had other plans. As Draco reached for his pants he suddenly found himself slammed into a wall again_. Again. _

Stiffening up Draco glared up at annoyance at the Auror. "So we're back to this? Come now Potter, there are better ways to get another shag out of me."

Potter's expression was something that Draco wished he could understand. He could just make out traces of amusement in the green irises, but the amusement was lost in a sea of seriousness that Draco did not understand, or really wanted to understand at all.

"Potter let me go—"

"Not until you just listen to me Malfoy," Potter cut in, his face a hard mask. "Just listen okay?"

With his back against a wall and his front pressed to the Chosen One, what could Draco do but nod?

"I'm going to tell you the truth, alright? And I don't want you to say a thing until you've heard me out. I know that you're probably thinking that I'm insane; I barged into your house not once, not twice, but three times now to do nothing really then to yell at you and accuse you of stalking me."

Potter drew a deep breath. Draco remained silent.

"But you never really were, not at all. You were telling the truth the whole time and I…owe you an apology. The funny thing is though—at least funny to you, probably—is that you really were stalking me; I didn't make it all up to come bother you and threaten you. I mean I made it up but—"

He paused for a second, looking down into Draco's face as though searching for something.

"I'm not lying to you," he said slowly, "and I know it sounds insane but…I saw you. I really did see you everywhere I went only it wasn't really you, it was all just a…illusion of you."

"An illusion?" Draco could not help but say, "As in as spell of some sort?"

Potter shifted uncomfortably. "In a way…" he quietly mumbled, "only no one was the spell caster and I was the only one…" Potter's eyes were penetrating him and he felt feverish. "Who could ever see you. The image of you was all in my mind, Malfoy, all of it was, because I never admitted to myself how much I—"

Draco was breathless as he stared with wide eyes up at Potter, trying to make sense of what was being said. Potter, seeing illusions of him…? But…why? Of everyone, why _him_…?

"You what Potter?" Draco choked out, leaning away from the wall so that he was resting against Potter, his face now inches from the Aurors. Did he dare to hope…? "What is it…Harry?"

At the sound of his given name, Draco could see Potter start to crumple. "Oh Merlin," the green-eyed man whispered harshly before he caught Draco's lips again in a brutal kiss that Draco was too eager to reciprocate.

"I was always attracted to you," Potter whispered against his mouth, the words floating into Draco's mouth like sweet candy that he ate greedily. "It was always you, Malfoy; always you, Draco. Oh Merlin, I could never get you out of my mind, I still can't get you out of it…even when I tried not to ever think about you….you great git…"

As Draco drank in all of Potter's words he could only start to smile against the others lips. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing; his dream man really wanted him? Potter always thought about him? Potter fantasized about him? It was all too much.

Potter was still naked and Draco clawed at that bronzed skin as he shed the boxers and pants he had just put on. Draco managed to pull away from his assault on Potter's neck for just a moment. "You're an even greater git, Harry Potter" he whispered fondly into the shell of Potter's ear, "for waiting so long to make your silly fantasies a reality. I've been waiting for you."

Potter's smile blinded him. He hugged Draco to his chest as they fell back onto the desk, naked and gloriously entwined. "Then let's not deny reality any longer, shall we, Draco?"

-0-

It would be two days before Hermione heard from Harry again, and although her feelings were still sore from their last meeting, she could not help but smile at how utterly happy he looked as he stepped out of the fireplace. She did not yet know the reason for his happiness, but being the ever clever witch she was, she had a hunch.

"Harry," she greeted simply, forcing herself not to run forward and hug him as usual. After all, she had to show she was still bitter somehow. "How are you?"

Harry's answer was to scoop her in his arms in a huge hug. Eyes widening at the unexpected move Hermione giggled lightly as Harry twirled her around once before setting her startled form down again with a vivacious beam. She blinked once, twice and then grinned back at him.

"I guess that answers my question," she laughed, bemused. "I guess things are well with you?"

Harry's happiness seemed to light up the room. "Oh they're certainly well enough," he teased, "although I'm not as well in one area as a certain pregnant friend of mine…"

Hermione blushed slightly as she reached down to place a hand across her still flat stomach. "I'm well for now," she said, "at least, until it comes time for this little fellow to come out!"

"So it's a boy then?" Harry's eyes danced, "how do you know?"

"A mother's intuition Harry," Hermione winked, "the mother always knows."

"That's brilliant then! Congratulations!" Harry captured her in another uncharacteristic hug and Hermione lost all her anger with him. "Have you told Ron about it?" Harry asked as he released her.

"Not yet; I was about to until you came in practically glowing in happiness!"

"Well go get Ron," Harry said, "So that I can tell you both together! And, of course, you can tell him your good news too! A boy…"

"I'll be right back!" Hermione promised as she hurried around the grinning Harry and out the door, calling for her husband. "Ron come here, Harry has some good news for us!"

"What's all this fuss about?" Ron hurried down the stairs. "Did the baby kick? Are you alright?"

"Harry has news for us," Hermione exclaimed, grabbing her husband's hand and walking him to the sitting room where Harry still waited.

"Harry what—"

But her words died as she saw that her best friend was no longer alone. In Harry's arms, smirking back at her, was none other than Draco Malfoy himself.

"Hello Weasels," he greeted nonchalantly, and Hermione, for the first time in awhile, was speechless. Behind her, she could hear Ron start to choke on air.

"M-Malfoy," she stammered, her curious gaze flickering between her still smiling friend and his smirking childhood rival. "Are you stalking Harry again…?"

To her astonishment, both Harry and Malfoy began to laugh.

"Oh, he's stalking me alright," Harry chuckled, as his arms tightened fractionally around Malfoy. "I know that this might shock you but…This is Draco Malfoy, my boyfriend."

"What?!" Ron choked out, "Malfoy…BOYFRIEND?!"

Harry had the grace to wince a little, although he could not stop smiling. "Sorry Ron but you see, I had no choice! Draco just wouldn't seem to get out of my head…"

At those words, Hermione started to understand. She could not understand it completely, and she really didn't know what exactly her friend was thinking in dating Draco Malfoy of all people, but…

One look at Harry's happy face and she knew that that was all that mattered.

* * *

_Illusion is the first of all pleasures._

_**Oscar Wilde**_

_**--Review?--**_


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